Happy Friday, friends! Don't worry, I'm here to ruin it! :) :) :)
I'm obligated to tell you this contains a major character death that occurs canonically (but off-screen) in book 8. You all know why we're gathered here today.
Chapter 15: How Dare You? (I Miss You)
Song: Over You by Miranda Lambert
Weather man said it's gonna snow
By now I should be used to the cold
Mid-February shouldn't be so scary
It was only December
I still remember the presents, the tree, you and me
Paris was missing.
Mika knew he was breaking one of the biggest clan rules, leaving the Hall of Princes unattended. But in that moment he didn't care.
Gracie went missing once. Or, "temporarily misplaced" as Kurda neatly referred to it. She was about two and a half at the time, and had the fastest little feet in Vampire Mountain. Mika and Kurda slept in separate-but-connected bedrooms back then, and Gracie's room was nestled in the middle. Mika had to get up early to go to Mika stuff that day. Kurda was on Gracie duty for the morning. Kurda was fast asleep when, unbeknownst to either of them, Gracie climbed out of her bed and went for a stroll - Mika had left his door slightly ajar. Gracie was at large in the mountain for over an hour. During which time both Mika and Kurda were both absolute nervous wrecks. They found her, of course. Or more accurately, Seba did. Either way it was a bit of a shit show, but they were able to laugh about it after several days.
Strangely, that's what Mika was thinking about twenty-something years later as he paced the halls of Vampire Mountain, flinging open every door he could find.
Initially, an hour had ticked by before Paris had been scheduled to show up in the Hall of Princes and take over for Mika so he could get some sleep. And then two hours. No one had reported seeing him anywhere. After three hours, Mika threw the rules out the window and walked decisively out of the Hall, leaving the guards looking anxiously back and forth at one another. Mika broke into a run at the end of the long hallway that led to the Princes chambers and when he finally swung the door open and looked around Paris's cell, his heart sank when he saw it was empty.
Mika made his way down to the Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl next. Paris was... well, he was old. There was no denying it. Sometimes old people slip and fall. Perhaps he'd gone to take a bath and had a mishap. But if that was the case, why hadn't he reached out telepathically?
There was a tiny part of Mika that already knew.
It was the same reason he didn't try to use his mental link to contact Paris. It was why he didn't run straight back to the Stone of Blood and use it to triangulate his location. Instead, he rallied almost every guard in the mountain except for the bare minimum needed at the Hall of Princes, and dispatched a search party.
A sweep of the shower caves revealed nothing and Mika stalked back to the upper halls, his heart pounding faster with every step. This wasn't possible. Not now.
When he reached the doors leading up to the Hall of Princes, Seba Nile was standing there with his hands folded and a somber expression on his face.
"We'll find him, Seba. Don't worry. He can't be far." Mika heard himself say as he drew even with Seba. To his confusion, Seba smiled. It was a soft, sad smile. But a smile just the same.
"I apologize, Sire Ver Leth. Perhaps my math is wrong, but if you are out here... which Prince is in there?" Seba asked quietly, pointing at the door to the Hall of Princes.
"Don't worry about the Hall. And don't 'Sire Ver Leth' me." Mika snapped back briskly. "We have to figure out where the hell Paris went. Do you have any ideas? Did he say anything to you last night?"
"Breathe, Mika." Said Seba. There was an abrupt shift in tone and a profound heaviness in his eyes that truly confirmed what Mika already knew and was trying so hard to deny. "You have not tried contacting him through your mental link yet... have you?"
"No." Mika admitted, suddenly unable to look at Seba. The old, red-cloaked vampire reached out and put a hand on Mika's shoulder. It occurred to Mika that once upon a time, Seba had been taller than him. That wasn't the case anymore.
"It's time to try." Said Seba in a voice barely above a whisper. Mika took a deep, steadying breath, closed his eyes, and cautiously reached out to Paris.
MVL: Paris?
For the first time in almost three centuries. didn't feel the ancient Prince's mind light up like the starry night sky when they connected.
MVL: Paris? Where are you?
He might as well have gone outside and yelled it off the mountain top, because his words disappeared into the void.
MVL: You can't leave me. Not now.
And it became impossible to deny the truth any longer. Paris had gone to a place Mika couldn't bring him back from.
For a moment Mika could do nothing but stare back at Seba, standing frozen in place. He hadn't disassociated from reality like this since the day of Kurda's betrayal almost seven years ago.
"I am so sorry, Mika." Said Seba quietly. "If you need anything, just tell me and I will help you however I can."
"He's not gone..." Mika whispered, feeling his throat constrict. "He can't be gone. He can't."
"It was his time." Seba murmured. "He lived such a glorious life. Few men are lucky enough to have both quality and quantity as he did. He did everything he wanted to do, and more. You can take comfort in that."
Mika didn't feel comforted at all. But he nodded slowly while forcing himself to keep it together. He'd always known this day would come. And in recent years he'd made an effort to come to terms with the fact that was coming sooner than later. But whether that effort had been successful was another question entirely.
"Fuck..." Mika sighed shakily. "Okay. We need to find out what happened. Need to find him... his body."
Seba sighed heavily once again.
"That will not take long. Have the guards search outside, around the mountain."
Mika felt a flicker of foreboding.
"How do you know that? How do you know he's not in here somewhere?"
Seba shook his head.
"You know he would never seek his death within the mountain. He knew his time had come, so he sought a noble death by pitting himself against the forces of nature. There was no foul play. Simply the grand finale of a life well-lived." Seba's ancient eyes swam with tears. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper.
"Last night he asked me to give this letter to you. Please take a moment to read it, once you are ready. He wrote one for each current Prince. And this one is yours." Seba explained, holding out the paper with a shaking hand.
Mika took it gingerly, as though afraid it would bite him. The movement felt slow and sluggish, as though drifting through a dream.
"So... am I understanding this correctly? He just handed all these to you with instructions, but no explanation as to why? Didn't you wonder if he was planning... something?" Mika choked out, feeling his breathing quicken by the second as his throat began to burn painfully. Seba held Mika's gaze determinedly even though there were tears beginning to pool in his eyes.
"Let us go back into the Hall. You can sit down, read your letter. I will have someone bring you something to drink." Said Seba carefully, as though trying to diffuse a live bomb. Mika shook his head slowly and took a step back.
"Did you know?" Mika whispered as the chilling truth finally sunk in. "Did you know he was leaving the mountain and never coming back?"
"Mika, just come back to the Hall and sit with me. Please. We can talk about all of it. He would not want -"
"DID YOU FUCKING KNOW, SEBA?"
Seba had never been Mika's mentor, but the old red-cloaked man was just as much a fixture in Mika's life as Paris was. Mika respected and admired Seba as much as his own mentor. Never in his life had he given Seba so much as a dirty look, much less shouted at him with such venom. But Seba's gaze didn't falter.
"Yes." He sighed with great finality. "I knew. Paris told me exactly what he was intending."
There it was, the final blow. If not for that crippling shock of betrayal, Mika might've been able to keep some composure. But he felt like he was back at Kurda's trial, knife in his back, every scar ripped open all over again, every nerve exposed.
"So you knew he was going to end his life... he specifically told you what he was going to do... and you didn't do anything?" Mika croaked out, not entirely succeeding in keeping his voice steady. Seba looked deeply distraught.
"It is the vampire way. You know that. He did not want to weaken and die here in this mountain, he wanted to face death honourably. On his feet and unafraid, like the strong, noble man he was. You should be proud of him." Seba whispered forlornly.
Mika felt something snap deep inside him upon hearing those words. He knew in his heart Seba wasn't the one in the wrong, but he didn't care.
"Don't you dare tell me what I should be feeling!" He snarled at Seba. The words came flying out of his mouth, burning like acid. "You... you just let him die! How could you let him leave? Did you even try to change his mind? You should have told me the second you knew he was planning this! I would've stopped him!"
Seba's eyes went wide with shock and hurt at Mika's words.
"It is not like that, and you know it!" Seba groaned weakly. "You are not thinking rationally. You are too close to the situation. If this was any other vampire-"
"BUT IT WASN'T! IT WASN'T ANY OTHER FUCKING VAMPIRE!" Mika roared. Several of the guards flinched. "IT WAS PARIS! HE WAS YOUR HUSBAND!"
"Mika, please..." Seba whispered. "Just sit down with me. I am not your enemy."
Mika and Seba stared at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily as harsh, angry grief blazed in Mika's eyes.
"I didn't even get a chance..." Mika panted. He felt his body starting to go numb, limbs tingling, room spinning, heart racing. "I couldn't... He didn't even say goodbye."
"I am so sorry." Said Seba desperately. "Let me help you through this. Please." He took a step forward and reached his hand out to Mika, as though offering food to a wounded animal. But like a wounded animal, Mika lashed out, swatting Seba's hand away before retreating.
"No, do not..." Seba begged as Mika slammed his palm into the panel that opened the doors to the Hall of Princes. "Mika, stop. He would not want this."
Mika had no words left for Seba. He fixed him with final look of despair that visibly broke the old man's heart, before walking through the doors and closing them again. And because there were no other Princes in the mountain to open the doors, nobody could follow him.
But you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I'll be OK
But I'm not going to ever get over you
247 YEARS AGO:
"Well, boys. This is it!" Paris declared with a warm chuckle as he opened the doors and admitted his two young apprentices into the legendary Hall of Princes. "This is where it all happens. Welcome to my office, so to speak."
"How much important stuff can really happen in one room?" Arrow asked, almost skeptically. "If being a Prince means sitting in the same chair all night every night, that doesn't sound like a promotion to me."
Paris scowled and quickly cuffed him upside the head.
"Show some respect, cub. You cannot even comprehend the amount of history this room holds." The Prince snapped. "What do you think, Mika?"
Mika had barely heard the salty exchange between his mentor and his co-apprentice. He was staring around in pure wonder. He'd never felt anything like this before, and he couldn't explain it. But the second he walked through those doors he felt like he was home. Like every nerve in his body, every synapse in his brain had been pre-wired for the first moment he stepped into this room. This was it, this was everything.
"I'll admit it's impressive." Said Mika calmly. Even back then he was selective about which emotions he chose to share with the world. "Your stories almost did it justice, Paris."
"As long as we're in this room, that's Sire Skyle to you." Said Paris sternly as he climbed the stairs to the throne platform. Mika arched an eyebrow skeptically and Paris winked. Arrow rolled his eyes.
"Ah, Paris! Welcome back." Called the other Prince in the hall, Lare Shment.
"Good to see you, Lare!" Paris boomed, shaking his hand before sitting down in his throne. "You look well. I must introduce you to my apprentices-"
"Wait, don't tell me. Let me guess." Said Lare with a cheeky grin. "This must be Arrow..." He pointed at Mika. "And this must be Mika!" He pointed at Arrow. Then Lare and Paris both let out great roars of laughter. It was funny (to them) because Arrow's signature tattoos were fully visible. Arrow glared reproachfully at his mentor.
Paris and Lare quickly became consumed by getting each other caught up to speed on all the adventures they'd had since they last saw each other, so Mika and Arrow wandered over to the first row of wooden pews and took a seat. It looked like Paris would be preoccupied for a while.
"How long do you think we'll have to stay here?" Arrow asked Mika in a low grumble.
"However long it takes for Paris to cover a decade worth of reminiscing." Said Mika with a shrug. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll be hungry from the journey too. It won't be long until we go get something to eat."
"I don't mean how long we'll spend in this room!" Arrow groaned in loud exasperation. "I mean mountain itself! Council may only last a short while, but Paris looks like he's ready to settle in for the long haul. I don't think I can live cooped up in here. I'll go stir-crazy!"
"A, did you listen to a single word Paris said on the way here?" Mika chided him impatiently. "This is where it all happens! This is where every Prince and General in history has trained! Don't you get that? Don't you want to be something someday?"
"What I don't want is to live in a rock!" Arrow practically whined. "I want to travel, see the world. Test myself against real challenges, not indoor training simulations!"
"Gods, you're still so feral." Said Mika, rolling his eyes.
"You're still a right snob." Arrow retorted swiftly.
Mika cuffed Arrow upside the head but there wasn't any real force behind it. They both chuckled quietly to themselves while Paris and Lare chatted. Arrow rambled on and on about all the adventures he wanted to go on once they left the mountain. How he was excited to test himself at Festival of the Undead but once that was over, he didn't care to stay a single minute longer. Mika nodded dutifully while his gaze wandered around this mystifying room. And he knew he wanted a piece of it. But it was more than a want, more than a goal. It was like destiny itself had whispered in his ear -
"That'll be you up there someday."
And Mika never doubted it for a second.
PRESENT DAY:
All he could think about now was that first-time feeling all those years ago. Time stopped and the world stood still as Mika sat alone in the Hall of Princes, barricaded away from the rest of the world. No one on earth could bother him as long as those doors were shut. At least until Arrow, Vancha, or Darren arrived at the mountain.
Mika dimly recalled the a time in his life when he could roll with the punches, when he could put on his game face, stay strong and push through the pain in dire times like this. Not anymore. Not since the war.
Out of habit, he moved up the aisle towards the throne platform but he stopped at the first row of pews. He stared, not at his own throne but at Paris's. The realization that never again would he see Paris sitting up there dropped on him like a ton of bricks and suddenly felt dizzy. He slowly sat down on the pew, still staring at that empty throne and trying to steady his breathing with very limited success.
"Fuck..." he moaned out loud to the empty room. Just when he didn't think he could take any more, destiny threw another punch. The first year after Kurda's exile had a blur of sleepless nights, trying not to break down, breaking down anyway, drinking too much, panic attacks, and fighting to keep his private hell a secret from the rest of the clan.
Over the years he'd he started to heal. Somewhere out in the world, far away from Vampire Mountain, he found purpose again. He felt alive again. He remembered why he did what he did, and that nobody could do it like he could. He remembered who the hell he was. Even last year when he'd found himself in Kurda's house, and subsequently Kurda's bed, he still made it through without entirely falling apart. And he was proud of that. So when he came back to Vampire Mountain after those five years in the field, he could once again sit down on his throne, look across this great room, give his trauma the finger, and think, "Fuck you, I'm Mika Ver Leth". He'd almost reached the point where he could be proud of how far he'd come.
But now, Paris was gone and so was the glue that held those broken pieces together. He wanted to cry, to scream loudly enough that Paris could hear him, wherever the hell he was now. But he couldn't even breathe enough to do either of those things, his lungs felt like they were collapsing into themselves and his heart was hammering so quickly it hurt.
In this panicked, desperate moment of weakness he longed for Kurda. What he'd give to melt into those arms like he used to when it all became too much. To feel those familiar hands running through his hair in the way that never failed to bring him back to solid ground. It was all he could do not to reach out through their mental link to seek out even a single word of comfort. To prevent himself from doing that, he reached instead for Arrow.
MVL: Where are you?
A: Somewhere in northern Scotland I think. Not sure.
MVL: You need to come home.
A: What happened?
MVL: Paris is gone. Dead.
A: Oh, gods. Shit. Fuck. What happened?
MVL: He... he took it into his own hands. Went out alone. Don't know what happened after that. They're looking for his body now. But he's gone.
Their mental link went silent for several minutes.
A: Are you okay?
MVL: I'm fine. Can you just come home?
A: You're a dirty liar. Of course I'll come but I'm in the middle of something. Give me a week or so. I'll flit back as soon as I can.
MVL: A week? Paris just fucking died, Arrow.
A: I heard you. I can't afford to sit and grieve right now. We're tracking a vampaneze squadron but they outnumber us bad. One wrong move and we're fucked. Lost a man last month. I'll feel my feelings later. Right now I need to keep the others safe.
MVL: Sorry. Didn't mean to distract you.
A: No. Glad you told me. I'll see you really soon. Just take care of Seba. He'll be struggling too.
MVL: Come back in one piece.
Mika severed their mental connection abruptly at the mention of Seba as waves of intermingling frustration and resentment wracked his body like torture by electroshock.
First, Seba had simply let Paris wander out of the mountain with the full knowledge of what was going to happen and hadn't done a single thing about it. His husband. The love of his fucking life. The man he'd stood up with in front of over a hundred guests and literally MARRIED. Not mated. MARRIED, in the ceremony that had originally been intended for Mika and Arra. (Gods, THAT felt like a fever dream from several lifetimes ago now).
And now Arrow's audacity! Arrow knew everything Mika knew and his reaction was to simply carry on. How dare he not recklessly abandon the task at hand to flit back here? How dare he plan to "feel his feelings later" as if the threads holding their universe together hadn't just been ripped apart? Sure, he probably was doing something important but what in the ever-loving fuck could be more important than this?
And Paris.
Paris Skyle, a pseudo-father figure to Mika, Arrow, and Vancha alike. It wasn't a coincidence they'd all joined him up on the thrones, one by one. He was simply such a fucking legend, it was contagious. No matter how respected the other Princes were, there was no doubt as to who was the true backbone of the clan. Their rock, their North Star. It was always Paris. He was the one Mika looked to when things were going wrong. As qualified as Mika was in his role as a Vampire Prince, not for a second did he labour under the delusion that he was even half of what Paris was. And he was more than fine with that. He simply felt honoured to exist in his ancient mentor's presence.
Undoubtedly the last decade hadn't been the pinnacle of Mika's career. He'd stumbled countless times, but no matter how bad it got Paris had been there every time. Whether with a swift scolding to put him in his place when he needed to be humbled, or a quiet word of encouragement when he felt like he couldn't carry on.
Mika was sixteen when he met Paris, and he was closing in on 280 now. Paris had been his one and only constant. Not even Arrow had been there the entire time. It was Paris who was there to bear witness to all of the best and worst moments of Mika's life, and everything else in between.
And he hadn't even said goodbye.
Mika looked down at the folded, crumpled piece of paper. Part of him wanted to read it. Part of him resented Paris for quite literally ducking out to go die with no warning. But mostly, he was acutely aware of the fact that once he read that letter, that was it. There were no more words of wisdom left. No hidden gems that Paris was holding out on.
He found himself walking shakily up the stairs to the throne platform, behind the Stone of Blood where he kept the old phone he used to keep in touch with Gracie. Paris had given it to him years ago so he'd always have a way to reach her when she was outside of the mountain. He truly didn't know what he would have done without it. His hand shook as he slowly dialled Gracie's number - the only number in the world he'd ever needed to know.
She picked up on the first ring. He heard rap music thumping softly in the background and a low humming noise. She was driving her car, her phone connected to the hands-free speaker thing that baffled and intrigued Mika to no end every time he visited her.
"Hey, Dad!" She answered breezily, her voice light as summer rain.
"Hey, Princess." Mika greeted her quietly, hating how gravelly his own voice sounded. She didn't answer for a moment, and he heard the volume of the music decrease.
"You don't sound so good, you okay?" She asked.
"I'm... I'm having a bit of a day, if I'm being honest." He croaked, trying so hard to keep his tone light.
"What's wrong?! Did something happen in the war?"
"No, nothing like that."
Mika slowly sat down on the floor with his back against the wall.
"Alright, I'm pulling into a parking lot... hang on... okay, tell me what's going on."
The music stopped entirely and so did the hum of the car. Mika took as deep a breath as he could considering his lungs felt like they were shrivelling up. Gracie's voice on the other end was the only thing holding him together.
"Paris passed away today." Mika whispered. He heard her gasp softly, over a thousand miles away.
For a minute she didn't say anything. He could hear her sobbing quietly, and a sniffle every now and then. A gentle tearing noise as she pulled Kleenex from the neat little cardboard box she kept in the centre console of her car. Mika had sat in the passenger seat of that car more than once in the middle of the night as the two of them ate fast food and messily worked through their feelings about Kurda, which happened pretty much every time they visited each other. So yes, he remembered exactly where she kept the Kleenex box.
"I'm so sorry to spring that on you." He added. "It just happened. We didn't see it coming... I can't believe it."
"What happened to him?" She choked out.
"He... he left the mountain. Went outside to seek an honourable death in the wilderness. That's all I know right now."
"You fucking vampires and your fucking honour!" She sobbed, suddenly sounding angry.
One of the many mannerisms she'd picked up from Mika was the deft stream of cuss words that peppered her speech when she was upset or agitated. Kurda wasn't exactly around to chide her about watching her language these days. And Mika had never picked that particular battle with her; it would have been rather hypocritical of him considering "fuck" was his emotional support word.
"It's what he wanted, Gracie." Said Mika gently. "I'm having a hard time with it too, but he had a great life, and-"
"You'd better not do that, don't you ever... leave... on purpose. Ever." She cut him off abruptly, venom in her voice.
"I'd never do that." Mika whispered in dismay. "I will never leave you. I promise."
But Mika knew the reality of it all. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't stop it from eating away at him. Especially now. By the time Mika was old enough to consider making an "exit" as Paris had, gods willing he lived that long, she would be...
Well, she was a human. And he was a vampire.
There were a thousand reasons Mika was glad Gracie was still entirely human. She was safe, comfortable, and content in the life she'd made herself. And that made Mika extremely happy. But he really had to be careful not to let himself think about the fact that there would come a day when she'd be gone from this earth and he'd still be here, barely looking older than the day he'd adopted her. And that notion absolutely fucked him up more than he could ever put into words.
"Are you okay?" She asked, just as Arrow had. It wouldn't be the last time Mika would heart those words in the near future. And as she said those words, Mika heard Kurda's influence in her voice rather than his own. That note of soft concern that was comforting - yet underlined with a quiet determination that made it clear she'd know if he lied.
But being the stubborn prick he was, Mika tried anyway.
"Don't worry about me, Gracie. It's a tough day but I'm fine. I just wanted you to know what happened-"
"You sound about as fine as you were when you showed up at my school to tell me my other dad committed domestic terrorism."
Mika flinched. He knew he should have known better than to try to get away with that.
The silence between them was so absolute, for a moment he thought she'd hung up. Then he finally heard another muffled ripping sound as she went for the Kleenexes again, and a rattling slurp as she presumably finished whatever beverage she had in the cup holder. Knowing her, probably Starbucks.
"Okay. You caught me. I yelled at Seba. I locked myself in the Hall of Princes. I have a letter from Paris in my hands... and I can't even bring myself to open it." He told her hollowly. "So... not fine."
"Why don't you want to read the letter?" She ventured, empathy having returned to her voice.
"Because once it's over, it's over. That's all I have left of him. And I don't know if I can handle that."
She sighed.
"If you can't read it for yourself, read it to me."
"That's the same thing, Gracie." Mika croaked, his voice breaking.
"Dad, I haven't seen him in over five years. I know you didn't get to say goodbye to him either, but at least you were there for his last days. I loved him too, you know."
Mika inhaled slowly, and let it out even more slowly.
"I know you did." He murmured at last. "And he loved you too. Gods, he was so pissed when Kurda and I brought you home. He thought we'd just made a huge mistake. Said he'd never been so disappointed in me in all my life. I'll never forget how stupid I felt standing there next to Kurda as Paris ripped a strip off me. As if I was a cub again. You were there too, Uncle Arrow was holding you while I was busy being yelled at."
He heard a hoarse chuckle on the other end of the line and he could just tell she was rolling her eyes.
"Wow. Great story, Dad. Inspirational."
"I'm not done. Paris barely spoke to me for weeks after that. But I didn't care, because I knew he'd come around. Then one day, I was sitting in the Hall of Princes, it was just Paris and I. And you. You were sitting in my lap as Paris and I went over a list of protocols for a new General training program or something... and you kept slapping the arm rests of my throne. At first I had no idea what the hell you were doing. Then I realized you were copying what you'd seen me do a million times - you were trying to open the Hall doors."
Now his voice was shaking again, but this time with laughter rather than grief as he remembered the determination in her tiny little eyes.
"No way!" Gracie exclaimed, and Mika's heart lightened as he heard the smile in her voice.
"Yeah. You were so smart. Paris was still pissed at me at that point but we had a lot of material to cover so we kept working away at it. He just pretended you weren't there." Mika continued. "Anyway, I was painfully aware of the fact that I was on his shit list, so I kept my head down and kept working, and tried not to let you distract me too much. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy."
"I can just picture it." Gracie snorted in amusement.
"I didn't mind, though. You basically owned my soul at that point." Said Mika fairly. "And then... I hear the doors open. Which was strange because Arrow had gone to bed and the guards hadn't announced anyone was coming in. So I looked up from my paperwork... and I couldn't believe it. Paris was making the doors open and close, every time you touched the armrest trying to do it yourself. So you'd think you were doing magic all by yourself."
"You've never told me that story." Gracie whispered, for a moment sounding like the wonderstruck little girl she'd once been.
For a moment, Mika got lost in the memory. How beautifully simple life had been back then, when his biggest challenge had been getting through a diaper change without gagging, or worse. It hadn't taken long to master it, but the first few weeks had been gruelling.
"I wasn't surprised that he was warming up to you... it was only a matter of time. But still a relief." Said Mika ruefully. "So I looked at you and said, 'Gracie, do you mind if Papa Paris holds you for a few minutes?' That was the first time he heard himself called "Papa Paris" - I made it up on the spot. And I could just see him start to smile out of the corner of my eye. And you answered me in baby jibberish, and I replied as if I knew exactly what you were saying, like I always did."
"I do vaguely remember how you used to talk to me like a little adult." Gracie laughed.
"I've always hated baby talk." Mika admitted, shrugging and smiling even though she couldn't see him. "It worked in your favour though, look how smart you are now."
"Sure. Go ahead and take full credit for that." Said Gracie drily.
"That's the plan. Anyway, I picked you up and set you in Paris's lap before he could protest. You looked at him, and he looked at you. You reached up and tried to yank out his beard... and it was game over for him. He was in love."
"Typical. I wish I had a picture of that."
"Gods, me too. Then while he was holding you, Paris looked over and asked me - with a completely straight face - whether your last name was going to be Smahlt or Ver Leth. And I told him it didn't matter, seeing as we'd be shipping you off to an orphanage any day now." Mika recounted matter-of-factly while Gracie laughed.
"Yeah, right." She snorted.
"Exactly. I knew perfectly well you weren't going anywhere, but the look on Paris's face..." Mika continued, still smiling weakly. "Then he told me not to be too hasty, and that we should make sure to do a lot of research before sending you anywhere, and so on. But I knew he already knew, just like I did. You were part of our family."
"I was lucky to know him." Said Gracie seriously. "I wish I'd gotten to see him one last time."
"He missed you after you stopped spending summers in the mountain. I never saw him smile as much as he did when we'd hear the phone ring and I'd let him get there first, because I knew he wanted to hear to hear your voice just as much as I did."
"Fuck... I should have called more. I've just been so busy with work, and I know it's always busy there with the war going on and everything's chaos for you all the time..." For the first time, she began to sound as erratic as Mika felt inside.
"Gracie, it's okay." Said Mika softly. "Don't do that to yourself."
"-but now he's just gone, with no warning! And I just... I... why didn't I call more?"
She broke down sobbing again and Mika's heart ached at the sound. His own pain ceased to exist the second he was confronted with hers, he would have given anything to take it from her so he could carry it himself. Or at the very least, just give her a fucking hug. The distance between them was torture.
"I'm going to read the letter." He murmured at last, having to fight to get the words out. She abruptly fell silent.
"I thought you didn't want..." she sniffled. "You said you couldn't..."
"I have to do it eventually. And there's no one I'd rather share it with." Said Mika evenly.
She took a few steadying breaths to prepare herself, while Mika did the same.
"Alright. Let's do it." She whispered at last.
So with shaking hands, he slowly unfolded the paper and began to read out loud:
"Mika:
If you're reading this, it means I have gone somewhere you cannot follow me. At least, not for many centuries. Let me start by saying, I am so sorry for how much my sudden departure will hurt you. Decades ago, when I used to imagine how my final days on this earth would be, I thought about how we would drink together, re-tell old stories and toast a life that was far too long but more fun than I care to admit. But then there came the war. Perhaps it would have been easier on all of you if made my grand exit a decade ago when things were running more smoothly."
"Vampires..." Gracie muttered disdainfully. Mika hummed in agreement and carried on:
"But now... I know that if I told you my intentions, you would have done everything in your power to stop me, and I did not want that. I simply wanted to go quietly, honourably, and on my own terms. The last conversation we had together is how I want you to remember me. And I know you will understand. I also know that you will not accept it at first. But please, Mika, do not do something stupid like lock yourself in the Hall of Princes alone with a bottle of whiskey."
Mika paused.
"Whiskey. That's what's missing here."
"I can't believe you didn't think of that. You really are having a bad day." Said Gracie wryly.
"No kidding." Mika muttered. Then realized he was smiling again. There were tears streaming from his eyes but he had to smile, because of course Paris predicted exactly how he was going to take this. So he continued to read.
"Perhaps it was selfish of me not to say goodbye to you. I just didn't want your last memories of me to be of trying to stop the inevitable. But please do not resent Seba. I gave him strict orders not to tip you off - he thought I should tell you. As you now know, I disagreed. If you need to be angry, be angry at me. I am dead - you cannot hurt my feelings. Just be gentle with Seba."
Mika winced.
"Already failed there."
"Seba will forgive you." Said Gracie gently. "You'd better go talk to him as soon as you get off the phone, okay?"
Mika grunted noncommittally.
"Promise?" Gracie pressed.
"Fine. I promise."
"Good."
Mika carried on:
"It's worth noting that although I did not make an official will, but let it be known I am leaving you, Arrow, and Vancha to Seba, and him to you. Symbolically, of course - you are all far beyond needing mentorship but I hope you will love and protect him as you did for me. Support him the way you would have supported me if he had died first.
Mika, with all my heart and soul I will miss you until you meet me in paradise. But please take your time. I'm not going anywhere. Until that day comes, may you smile again. May you find the strength to carry on even when you feel like you cannot take another step. May you never be too proud to lean on those you love, and who love you. May you fight. May you win. You have more light inside you than anyone knows - least of all, yourself. Do not let this cruel world steal your fire.
Above all, I am so very, very proud to have been your mentor, your colleague, and your friend. And I will love you, and Gracie, until the Hall of Princes itself cracks and crumbles to dust. But for the love of the gods, Mika... please don't give Desmond Tiny any more attitude lest that happen sooner than later.
Sincerely, Paris."
Mika didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he absorbed that last sentence, so he compromised and did a little of both.
"He really put it all out there." Said Gracie hoarsely after a minute. "What a guy. You glad you read it?"
"Yeah." Mika chuckled weakly. "I'm really glad. Couldn't have done it without you."
"Hey, what was that last part Paris wrote about Desmond Tiny?" Said Gracie suddenly, sounding far too alert. Mika cringed - he hadn't told her about Tiny's visit. He was extremely open with her about many things, but there was a limit. And that limit did not extend as far as recounting the time he talked back to Desmond Tiny and almost got the Hall of Princes destroyed.
"It's a long story and not a big deal. More of an inside joke." He replied swiftly. He got lucky, and she didn't ask any more questions about that. They talked for a while longer. Eventually they said their reluctant goodbyes and Mika was alone with his thoughts once again.
But it was different this time. Now, after talking Gracie through it and internalizing Paris's parting words, he was able to sit comfortably with his thoughts in a way he couldn't before. He was broken-hearted, but not broken. In shock, but not spiraling. Hurting, but handling it. For now.
So Paris had known all along that would be the last time they spoke one-on-one. And he'd specifically chosen his last major words to Mika:
"In case no one's told you lately, you're doing your best. And despite what you tell yourself, your best IS good enough. It always has been. No matter what happens, try to remember that."
"Honestly, Paris? I'm not convinced." Mika spoke aloud, his own voice echoing softly off the walls of the vast cavern, empty except for him. "But I guess I'm just going to have to take your word for it."
Living alone here in this place
I think of you, and I'm not afraid
Your favorite records make me feel better
Cause you sing along
With every song
I know you didn't mean to give them to me
Seba sat outside the Hall of Princes for four hours. It never once crossed his mind to walk away. In theory, Mika could've stayed in there for weeks. There was a spare coffin in the back corner, a water closet, and some emergency rations in the storage room behind the thrones in case the mountain was ever under siege. Mika wouldn't have a reason to leave the hall unless he wanted to. Eventually the other Princes would return to the mountain for the funeral and they'd be able to open the doors. Until then, Mika would have to be left to his own devices. But that didn't mean Seba had any intention of leaving his post.
Seba could've cried with relief when he finally heard the low hum of the door panel being activated from the other side, followed by the whoosh as they slid open. Seba quickly rose to his feet but not before Mika caught on to the fact he'd been sitting on the floor.
"Oh, thank the gods." Seba gasped. He took an automatic step towards Mika but paused as he remembered the way he'd lashed out earlier. Mika looked stunned and exhausted, but gone was the overall aura of hostility. He seemed much more relaxed than before.
"I read the letter." He whispered hoarsely.
"He meant every word of it." Said Seba shakily. Then Mika took a step forwards and wrapped his arms around Seba.
"I'm sorry, Seba." Mika croaked. "You lost him too. I was awful to you. I'm so sorry."
Mika dismissed the guards with a quick flick of his hand, and the hall was deserted. No one else needed to watch the noble Quartermaster break down in Mika's arms.
"I will miss him." Seba choked out at last as he withdrew from the embrace and wiped tears from his eyes. "By the gods, I will miss him so terribly."
"Even when I first met him, he was already older than most vampires ever live to be." Mika replied quietly. "I feel like I should be toasting him right now... celebrating his life. Honouring him. But honestly, I just want him to come back. I don't know how to function without him here. That's pathetic, isn't it?"
"Of course not. We are living in uncertain times." Said Seba. "He was a constant in your life for almost three centuries. I don't blame you for feeling lost. I told him he should say goodbye to you -"
"He was right not to." Said Mika bluntly. "I would've tried to stop him. I would've done anything. But he knew it was his time and he wanted it to be on his terms... I would've been selfish and taken all the honour out of it."
"You knew him well." Said Seba softly. "And he knew you too. His only regret was the timing of the war. He hated the thought of leaving you with that burden. But he also knew you would be okay."
"Sounds like he had a little too much faith in me." Said Mika darkly. Seba smiled forlornly and his eyes still glittered with tears.
"He had all the faith in the world in you." Seba whispered. "Now come on, let us get back to the Hall of Princes. I will have the staff bring us food and wine from the kitchens. We must start planning a funeral fit for the greatest vampire to ever walk the earth."
Within the hour, the word of Paris's passing was spreading like wildfire across the globe, carried telepathically from vampire to vampire until it seemed certain that every last one of them was planning to attend the funeral.
Mika told Vancha second (Arrow having been first) and Larten third. He was relieved when Larten responded that Darren volunteered to remain outside of the mountain for the funeral. The boy had certainly bonded with Paris over the past six years, but that paled in comparison to the centuries the others had spent by his side. Mika admired Darren's self-awareness and intended to thank him in person one day.
At one point, Mika felt Renley Azerion's consciousness cautiously reach out and brush against his:
RA: I heard. I'm so sorry. Can I do anything?
Truthfully Mika hadn't spared Ren a single thought in at least six hours. If there was a protocol for how ultra-casual friends with benefits are supposed to react when one loses a parental figure, Mika didn't know what it was. Nor did he expect anything. While he appreciated Renley's evident concern, he was entirely focused on discussing logistics of the funeral with Seba when he received the message, so he did not reply to Renley. He meant to get around to it later, it was the polite thing to do. But he simply forgot.
Within several hours, Paris's body was located several miles outside the mountain. He'd died of his wounds after seemingly winning a fight with the biggest grizzly bear anyone had ever seen. The bear's body had been brought back and would be part of the funeral feast. Mika could breathe a little easier now that he knew Paris's physical form was safe within the mountain. Once the other Princes arrived, Mika would be able to leave the hall and go sit with his ancient mentor one last time.
Of all the things Mika had been sad about in recent years, none of them had been simple. But this new grief was almost refreshing, in a bizarre way. It was clear-cut. Paris Skyle owed the world nothing. All there was left to do was miss him.
Mika had just dismissed Seba and his army of staff. They'd be spending the rest of the week preparing the mountain in the same manner they did for council. Cells would need to be equipped for guests, food would need to be planned. Seba was in charge of delegating all that. And the ceremony itself would need to be organized - that particular task would fall largely to the remaining Princes. Mika decided to go ahead and get started for three reasons:
One: He needed a distraction.
Two: Arrow and Vancha would be tired from their journey when they arrived.
Three: Arrow and Vancha, while both stellar Princes in their own right, were about as useful as a screen door on a submarine when it came to coordinating large-scale events like this. Having organizational skills isn't part of the job requirements for the role of Vampire Prince, but Mika sometimes thinks it should be.
Mika spent several minutes rummaging through the small meeting room in the back of the Hall of Princes looking for a writing utensil so he could start drafting Paris's eulogy. Soon the mountain would be chaos and he wouldn't have a spare minute to think, so he wanted to get it out of the way while he still had some peace and quiet.
He was up to his elbows in a badly neglected supply cupboard when he heard an intimately familiar consciousness brush up lightly against his own, and he flinched so hard he bumped his head sharply on the open cabinet above him. He hissed in pain and staggered back to the table so he could sink down into a chair and massage his forehead.
KS: I just heard about Paris. I'm so sorry, Mika.
MVL: Who told you?
KS: Vancha. Just now.
MVL: Ah. Seems he missed the no-contact-exile memo.
KS: He did it telepathically, it's not like he showed up at my house like you did, you filthy hypocrite. I can't believe I had to hear about Paris from Vancha!
MVL: Pardon my oversight. Been slightly preoccupied.
KS: I just wanted to see how you were doing.
MVL: I'm alright.
KS: Are you lying?
MVL: Why the concern?
KS: Why not?
MVL: Afraid your past actions left me emotionally crippled and prone to major psychological issues in the event of future traumas just like this one?
KS: Your words, not mine.
MVL: Not even my words. I skimmed Gracie's old psych textbook last time I visited her place.
KS: Learn anything?
MVL: Mostly that I need hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of therapy.
KS: Not included in Vampire Mountain's Employee Benefits Package, huh?
MVL: I forgot you're also a comedian.
KS: Listen, I know you don't want to talk to me but I need to know you're okay.
MVL: You're afraid I'll end up how I was the night you got exiled.
KS: Can you blame me?
MVL: As a matter of fact, yes. I blame you for a lot of things. Ruining my life, for example.
KS: Mika... please.
MVL: Sorry, that was harsh. I'm okay, Kurda. I'm just really fucking sad. That's the truth.
KS: Thank you. That's all I needed to hear.
MVL: Well, now you've heard it.
KS: He lived an incredible life. There was no one like him.
MVL: He fought a grizzly to death. And won, but died of his injuries. Hell of a way to go.
KS: ...Premeditated, I assume?
MVL: Yes. Went out on his terms.
KS: I guess that's all any of us can hope for.
MVL: He left without saying goodbye. He knew I'd try to stop him.
KS: I'm so sorry. That must have hurt.
MVL: I didn't take it well when Seba first told me. I had a... I didn't take it well.
He never could bring himself to use the phrase 'panic attack' when speaking with anyone. He could barely use it talking to himself. But Kurda was as fluent as ever in all his code words.
KS: Can't blame you one bit.
MVL: But I'm doing as well as can be expected. He left me a letter for closure... it was hard, but when I finally read it I felt better. That sound familiar?
KS: I read Gracie's letters every single night. I get it.
MVL: I actually read Paris's letter to Gracie over the phone when I told her what happened. It helped... for both of us.
KS: How'd she take it?
MVL: Better than me.
KS: Gods, Mika... I miss her so much.
MVL: I know you do.
He resisted the urge to say "me too". Because he knew perfectly well his and Kurda's versions of missing their daughter couldn't have been any more different.
KS: I always knew when Paris eventually passed on it'd hit you hard. I just never considered the possibility that I wouldn't be there. And I wish I was.
MVL: It doesn't matter how we wish it was. It is what it is.
KS: I know. Just remember to eat, sleep, and drink, okay?
MVL: I fully intend on drinking.
KS: Water. I am referring to water.
MVL: Don't you have some homeless people to feed?
KS: Not til later. My afternoon's wide open.
MVL: Well, don't you have a boyfriend to... I don't know, do all the things you used to to with me? Congratulations, I guess. Gracie told me a while back.
KS: It ended recently, actually.
There was a sudden shift in his tone that threw Mika off. He didn't know what to make of it and he was in no state to unpack what it meant.
MVL: Oh. Uncongratulations, then. What happened?
KS: I'm not talking about this with you.
MVL: Defensive, I see. You alright?
KS: I'm about as fine as you are. Take from that what you will.
MVL: As cryptic as that is, I have to start planning the biggest funeral in clan history so you're off the hook for today.
KS: Alright. Let me know if you need anything.
MVL: Like? What could you possibly do for me?
KS: All I know at this point is... if I thought for a minute you weren't okay... if there was any chance you might do something stupid or dangerous... I'd be there. And I'd fight every guard in that place until got to you.
Mika's heart sped up at those words. He'd never felt such gritty determination in Kurda's demeanour. He wished Kurda had just not said anything. Every time he thought he was moving on... maybe it would always be two steps forward and one step back. Or was it one step forward and two steps back? Whichever resulted in less progress was the one Mika was currently doing.
MVL: Wow, very on-brand for an exiled pacifist. I can see that plan working out really well for you.
KS: I'll stop bothering you now. If you need anything, I'm here. I'll always be here.
Mika felt his throat burn in frustration and he slammed his fist into the hard wooden table.
MVL: Do you know how unfair it is for you to suggest that? It doesn't work like that and you fucking know it. You think I don't WISH I could have you with me for this?
He couldn't hear Kurda sigh sadly, but he knew he had.
KS: Hang in there. It won't always hurt like it does now.
MVL: I know. I've done this before.
Kurda abruptly withdrew from Mika's mind, and Mika went back to hunting through cupboard after cupboard for a pencil. It took him twenty minutes to find one, so he spent the next hour and a half decluttering and subsequently reorganizing the entire meeting room. And it had been in dire need. By the time Mika was finished, the room was spotless and every storage cupboard and drawer were so orderly they were almost unrecognizable. He was almost a little disappointed when he was finished, but at least he'd been able to push Kurda out of his mind for a little while.
But you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I'll be OK
But I'm not going to ever get over you
Mika carried on with his planning, and elected to leave the door to the Hall of Princes open for the day. Everyone in the mountain was rushing around getting ready for the funeral and he didn't feel like opening the door every time someone had to ask him something.
The mountain was buzzing, and atmosphere felt eerily similar to the days leading up to a Council opening. Like everyone was gearing up for a hell of a party - and they were. In the eyes of the vampire clan, Paris's passing was the pinnacle of celebration, the utter definition of how every vampire aspired to live and die. Of course he would be missed, but even in death may you be triumphant, and all that. Life goes on. Mika was holding himself together but in his heart of hearts, all he wanted was to go curl up in his coffin and hide from the world.
He was halfway through the first paragraph of the eulogy, and concentrating so deeply he didn't notice Renley approaching until he'd ascended the steps to the throne platform and awkwardly paused mere feet away from where Mika was sitting.
"Charna's Guts!" Mika exclaimed, jumping in surprise. "Where the fuck did you come from?"
Renley frowned, worry lines etched in his face. He was also holding a small, wooden box. Mika belatedly remembered feeling Renley reach out through their telepathic link earlier. Although busy at the time, he genuinely intended to reply later, to let Renley know he was doing as well as could be expected and there was no need to worry or make it weird. That he should simply carry on as normal. Then Kurda happened and that was more than enough to push Renley off Mika's radar entirely.
"I tried to contact you as soon as I heard about Sire Skyle." Said Renley. "You blocked me out. I was worried."
"I didn't block you out. Just been a little busy." Mika countered tensely.
"That's alright. I just came to see how you were doing. Are you okay?"
"I'm tired of being asked if I'm okay." Said Mika through gritted teeth. "But I'm managing." He added, keeping his eyes on the page in front of him rather than on Renley's concerned face. He heard Renley exhale heavily.
"I know you don't like talk about these things. At least, not with me... and that's your business. But I'm just saying you could. If you wanted to." Said the General carefully. Almost hopefully.
Mika set down his pencil, and neatly folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into his pocket. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, fixing Renley with a look of indifference that bordered in defiance.
"I appreciate the concern. Honestly." Said Mika frankly. "But I already did the emotions thing. Like, hours ago. And I'm much too busy to go for round two. So thank you, but this isn't part of our arrangement. You're free to go."
Renley sighed again, this time sounding significantly more exasperated.
"Mika... come on. Nobody can process such a big loss that quickly. Not even you."
"Don't underestimate my trainwreck of a brain."
"Hide under that bitchy sarcasm all you want. If showing you some basic compassion is wrong, then have your guards arrest me. Call them right now. I'll wait." Renley fired back, a stubborn gleam in his eyes. Mika rolled his eyes, but felt a slight prickle of guilt and he dropped his defences fractionally.
"Ren, I didn't mean-"
"Listen, I'm not an idiot. I know what we are. I know you don't give a single, solitary fuck about me." Renley continued fiercely.
"That's not true." Said Mika bluntly. "I give two or three fucks about you. Maybe four on a good day, like when you do that thing with your tongue I like." He added with complete seriousness.
"Which thing?"
"You know exactly which thing."
"You're right, I do." Said Renley with a brittle smile. Then he glanced down at the box in his hands. "Anyway, I tried to get this to you hours ago. I was in charge of a training session in the Hall of Rush Flon'x and I couldn't cancel. So I gave it to a guard to send up to you. Then he got reassigned by Seba and by the time I caught up with him he hadn't had a chance to deliver it. I guess if you want something done right you have to do it yourself."
Renley handed the box to Mika who accepted it rather quizzically. Vampires don't really do gifts, last time he was given a present it was an electricity-free coffee maker which had been carefully built by Kurda and Seba for 270th birthday years ago. He shot Renley a suspicious look, and looked inside.
Even on one of the top five worst days of his life (and that's some stiff competition), Mika couldn't help but smile. There was a handwritten note, a small but fancy bottle of imported whiskey, a basket of fresh raspberries - Mika's favourite - and a little black pebble.
For the second time that day, he picked up a note in which someone had taken the time to pen a series of words meant for him and him alone, and began to read:
"Mika -
I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't even imagine how you're feeling. I know this won't help much, but worth a try. Just a few little things to help get you through the day: A strong drink, because I'm sure you could use one. A snack, because you need that more than the drink. And this rock I found on the floor because it reminded me of you.
I know you'll want your space. But if you let me, I'll be there.
X, R.A."
Mika looked up, eyebrows raised.
"Signed with a kiss? Really?"
"Shut up." Renley grunted, cheeks turning pink. Mika rolled his eyes again, albeit not in a mean way. Yes, there's a difference.
"I'm sorry, Ren. This is literally the nicest thing anyone's done for me this decade." Said Mika after a pause, much more seriously.
"Sad if true." Said Renley with a wry grin.
"I mean it." Said Mika. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Mika withdrew the whiskey and wasted no time cracking it open and taking a long drink.
"Straight out of the bottle, huh? You truly are a class act." Said Renley, arching an eyebrow in mild amusement.
"Well, you didn't include a glass." Said Mika flatly. "Also, I really need to know. What about this rock reminded you of me?" He picked it up, lazily tossed it in the air and caught it in his hand a couple times.
"It's dark and tough, and sort of abrasive if you rub it the wrong way." Renley explained. Mika couldn't help but notice his cheeks were slightly pink again. "But if you look at it from just the right angle... it's got this shine to it."
Mika tilted his head slightly, raised his eyebrows and fixed Renley with a long, poignant stare. Honestly, it was everything he could do not to laugh. For a moment he didn't say anything. Renley gave him a skeptical look in return as he waited for some feedback.
"So what you're saying is I'm only attractive from certain angles?" Said Mika at last, unable to entirely restrain himself from smirking.
Renley slapped his palm to his forehead in semi-mock frustration.
"No, you vain prick." He groaned. "I'm trying to tell you that as soon as I heard about Paris, all I could think about was if you were alright. Then you ignored my message. And I couldn't focus on anything else, to the point where even that stupid fucking rock made me think of you. Yet here you are, cracking your dark little jokes and acting like everything's normal even though you're... you're devastated! I can see it in your eyes! Gods, I just want to help you! But you won't let me, because you're too damn stubborn to let anyone in!" Renley ranted, throwing his arms in the air furiously as his amber-hazel eyes flashed a thousand different emotions.
Mika stared back at him coolly, all traces of amusement having vanished from his face entirely.
"Can you blame me?" He asked softly, each word measured and precise. He held Renley's gaze firmly, his steely eyes slightly narrowed.
"I don't know." Renley replied, his voice cracking like sheet ice. "I don't know what to tell you."
"I don't need you to tell me anything." Said Mika calmly.
Renley threw his arms up in exasperation once again. Then turned sharply away and Mika thought he was about to stomp out of the room but instead he sat down wearily upon the top stair of the throne platform, his back facing Mika and face buried in his hands.
Mika sighed resignedly and after several moments he stood up from his throne and slowly made his way over to Renley and sat down beside him, their shoulders brushing together. They sat in silence for several minutes until Mika finally spoke:
"I'll be fine, Ren. Trust me. He told me I would be - so I have to believe it's true."
Renley sighed and gazed across at Mika out of the corner of his eye.
"I hope he knew what he was talking about."
"Guess we'll see. But in case he's wrong, at least you're here. And you can say you told me so. Deal?" Mika added after a moment's pause, his voice catching in his throat.
"You're only saying that because I brought you liquor."
Mika shrugged.
"I liked the rock too."
Renley let out a weak laugh and wrapped his arm around Mika. Mika tensed for a moment, but slowly leaned into the physical contact until his head came to rest against Renley's shoulder.
The true moment of realization landed on Mika like a bag of bricks when he wasn't expecting it. He'd kept it together (mostly) for Arrow, Gracie, Seba, Vancha, Larten, and Kurda. Fucking Kurda, as if the entire day hadn't been difficult enough without that.
One minute he was feeling marginally okay, leaning comfortably into Renley, appreciating the silence as his hand ran slowly across Mika's back. And the next minute, without so much as a shred of warning, the last thread holding him together finally snapped, some internal switch was flipped, and he was sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe.
He thought it had sunk in hours ago. He thought he'd already absorbed it, internalized it or whatever. But that was the moment it hit him.
Paris was gone.
Paris was gone and he wasn't coming back.
Renley wasn't part of Mika's carefully chosen family. But they weren't here, and Renley was. So it was Renley who wiped his tears with trembling fingers. It was Renley who held him as he violently ricocheted between sobbing and hyperventilating. And it was Renley who had the presence of mind to gently coax Mika back over to his throne, take his hand and press it against the door panel to seal the Hall shut, ensuring no one would inadvertently wander in and witness this.
Mika couldn't be sure if he'd fallen asleep, passed out, disassociated, or simply zoned out. But eventually he regained some semblance of awareness and realized he was lying on the floor of the throne platform, his head resting in Renley's lap. His entire body ached, but nothing more so than his head which felt like there was a sledgehammer assault taking place within it.
"This... this is why we don't talk about feelings, Ren." He murmured, so quietly he could barely hear himself. Renley tensed at the sound, and Mika could tell he was shaken. Which was fair. Maybe next time he'd think twice before trying get inside Mika's head.
"What do you need?" Renley asked, his voice weak and strangled with concern. "Want me to find Seba? Or a medic?"
Mika exhaled a ghostly humourless laugh and shifted his body so he could look directly up at Renley, who was peering down at him from a rather unflattering angle.
"A medic? What, to formally diagnose me as sad?"
"I don't know fucking know, Mika. I'm trying here, okay?" Ren's voice was shaking now.
"You know you can tap out whenever you want. I won't hold it against you. Actually I envy you, I'd love to opt out of putting up with myself." Mika told him, his voice calm and even once more.
Renley sighed in a way that almost seemed a little annoyed, but continued to lightly stroke Mika's clammy forehead with his fingertips.
"You know... For such a cocky son of a bitch... you really, really hate yourself." He muttered. There was an unmistakeable touch of resentment in his voice and all over his face. Now he had Mika's attention.
"Pardon you?" Mika demanded. He sat up abruptly, body tense as he faced Renley head-on.
"You heard me. What went wrong in your brain to make you feel like you don't even deserve the bare minimum on one of the hardest days of your life?" Renley demanded. His voice was thick with urgency, emotion... as though this was a quandary that was causing him immense frustration.
Mika narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Renley suspiciously. That wasn't true. Even from a young age Mika had always felt like he deserved the world. So he went out and got it for himself, and now here he was at the top of his game. As rough as the last few years had been, that period of his life was still an anomaly in what had otherwise been a spectacular career. He had plenty of flaws, but self-worth had never been a hangup. So there couldn't possibly be any truth to Renley's words.
Right?
"Listen, you know full well I don't want a boyfriend, or a therapist. I've been nothing but clear about that." Mika growled warningly. "And currently you're acting like both. And if you want to stay in my life-"
"Believe it or not, I don't want to be either!" Renley cut him off with so much conviction it didn't occur to Mika not to believe him. "You're a top-tier lay, Mika. Best I've ever had, and I've had a lot -"
"So have I. You crack the top five for sure." Mika chipped in drily.
"Oh, would you shut the fuck up?" Renley practically howled in exasperation. "I know you think I'm secretly hoping you'll fall in love with me, but you're wrong. I thoroughly enjoy getting to lay you down every night with no strings attached. I wouldn't change a single thing between us. But that doesn't mean I can turn a blind eye to you falling apart on the fucking floor. It's not that simple."
"You know I could just order you to leave this room, and you'd have no choice." Mika growled evasively. He had no desire to unpack any of that.
"You're right, Sire. So why haven't you? Hmm?" Renley shot back, placing a mocking sort of emphasis on 'Sire'.
Mika groaned in frustration, and wished he'd chosen a less intuitive partner with which to participate in recreational sex.
"Where's your snarky comeback?" Renley pressed, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head expectantly.
"Give me a minute." Mika grunted, as close to admitting defeat as he'd get. "I'm tired."
"I'm not trying to ruin your day any more than it already has been. But think about what I said, okay?" Renley replied. Both his voice and his demeanour were softening. He didn't seem interested in antagonizing Mika further.
"Sure won't." Mika fired back, voice tinged with bitterness.
"Fine. Be like that."
They sat in silence for a few moments, not looking at each other. Mika's eyes ran over the faintly glowing walls, the long rows of empty pews, and finally landed on the throne he'd never again see Paris sitting in. He felt his throat close up all over again. Fuck, would it always be like this? Today alone had felt a thousand hours long.
He forced himself to tear his eyes away from Paris's throne and they finally landed on Renley's face. And as if he could sense Mika looking at him, Renley's gaze slowly lifted until their eyes were locked; blazing mahogany on galvanized steel.
"I'm glad you're here, Ren." Mika whispered. "I should've just left it at that. Sorry."
Renley rolled his eyes, and Mika pretended not to notice the solitary tear that escaped from them. But then he let out a hoarse attempt at a laugh.
"Just come here." Renley croaked, pulling Mika back into his arms.
They remained there on the floor. Renley with his back leaning against the front of Mika's throne, and Mika half-sitting half-laying in his lap. Any other day he would've felt like a complete degenerate but today wasn't any other day. Today was the day the world lost Paris Skyle. So Mika figured if there was ever a time to lie on the floor in the Hall of Princes itself, this was surely it. Besides, who was going to stop him? Not a damn soul. That's who.
They lapsed into silence for a while.
"Tell me about Paris." Renley suddenly broke the silence.
"You knew Paris. You saw him more than most of our current Generals." Mika, who'd almost managed to fall asleep, muttered reproachfully.
Renley snorted.
"Everyone knows the Princes have to act a certain way in the public eye. Most of us never get the full picture. Can't blame you for wanting to maintain your images and all that. I just find it interesting." Renley noted offhandedly while Mika snorted in amusement. And Renley continued to ramble: "You're a prime example: picture-perfect Prince while you're in that throne, and an utter disaster off-duty. But you keep up appearances well, I really thought you had your shit together until I got to know you better these last few months."
"Not true. Sometimes I'm a disaster on duty too." Mika mumbled. Mika kept his eyes closed but he could feel a soft chuckle vibrate Renley's body, and hear the rueful smile in his voice.
"What I'm getting at is that I want to hear about Paris as you knew him. Not how the clan saw him." Said Renley. There was a touch of encouragement to his words as his fingers traced lazy circles over Mika's cheekbone and up and down his neck.
"Where do I begin?"
"The beginning. I'm not going anywhere."
"Fine, I met Paris in a tavern when I was sixteen. I'd just run away from my obscenely wealthy but emotionally neglectful family-"
"Oh my gods. Of course. Everything about you suddenly makes complete sense!" Renley laughed. His voice had returned to its default setting of easy breezy. Mika swatted his leg, but managed a weak chuckle himself.
So Mika talked, and Renley listened intently, occasionally chiming in with a remark, or a genuine laugh at the funnier bits. And when it was all said and done, Mika couldn't deny he felt a little lighter.
It was true that Renley would never be Kurda. But that was irrelevant because Kurda would never be here again, and neither of those things were Renley's fault. So not for the first time Mika found himself wishing and waiting for something to click in his brain that would allow him to feel something for him. Maybe the feelings would show up eventually, Renley didn't seem to be going anywhere. But for today, all Mika could do was close his eyes and pretend.
Or maybe he was just pretending it was Kurda.
It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone
Cause you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I'll be OK
But I'm not going to ever get over you
Oooooooffffff. There it is.
I should probably let you guys know that Mika has asked about re-negotiating his contract with me and return to his original creator's custody. He keeps saying things like "Shan may have undervalued me but at least he didn't pull THIS SHIT." Whatever that means.
This chapter was rough, I'm sorry. I always knew Paris's demise would be part of the Dirty Chai canon but it still hurts to say goodbye. Part of me knows I went a little overboard on the emotions in this one, not to mention ~ my babey ~ has already had a pretty rough go throughout this entire shitfest. However: 1) I LOVE writing high-intensity emotional interactions between characters. I find it fascinating and satisfying. (Mika's flipping me off with both hands rn). 2) I've read a trillion times deeper into the relationships between all of them than the source material has. I don't care how long and wonderful Paris's life was. I couldn't gloss over the fact that he's still going to be REALLY, REALLY missed.
Also, fun fact, there was not a single trace of Renley in the original version of this chapter, other than the moment he checks in with their mental link and Mika brushes him off (aka leaves him on 'read'). But I couldn't stop thinking about digging justtttt a little deeper into their dynamic. So I wrote a test segment to see if I liked it. And then I did - so I ran with it. I dunno folks. He was going to be a one-off type of thing but then 2 or 3 people mentioned they liked him so what the fuck do I know?
Please leave a comment if you're enjoying this. That's all I ask.
- Roxy